


Sarek's Snowballs

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Humor, Tegan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When asked to write about her favourite memory of ‘snow,’ Amanda immediately recalled a certain Federation conference in Canada.</p><p>Written by Tegan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sarek's Snowballs

**Sarek’s Snow Balls**

 

by Tegan

Rated: G

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from Star Trek and am just borrowing the characters for a bit of fun.

Summary: When asked to write about her favourite memory of ‘snow,’ Amanda immediately recalled a certain Federation conference in Canada.

 

Feel free to email with comments.

[sheenas@something.co.uk](mailto:sheenas@something.co.uk)

…………………………………………

 

Unusually that year, the Federation conference had been scheduled to take place on Earth in Canada, as that country had won some intergalactic conservation prize. Therefore, I was sent to Montreal as the linguistic attaché for the Vulcan embassy, along with the new Vulcan ambassador, Sarek, his assistant T’Rel, and Torn, a security guard.

 

The annual event lasted seven days, but on the third day negations came to a halt. This was due to severe weather conditions and lack of available transporters; therefore, the delegates found themselves imprisoned in various hotel rooms, unable to travel.

 

Torn had woken our party quite early, eager to relate the news of the closure to Sarek and desperate to show T’Rel the ‘water crystals that fall from the sky.’

 

 I love snow, so having the opportunity to educate the two young Vulcans on the many uses of ‘water crystals’ was a ticket to fun. I arranged for warm clothes to be sent up to our rooms and that was how T’Rel, Torn and I ended up building a massive snowman at the front entrance to the Royal Monty Hotel. Actually, it was more of a snow ‘sculpture’, as Torn was surprisingly artistic, (his talents possibly submerged by family loyalty.) We were all very proud of it, so when the Vulcan ambassador himself came out to inspect it, we waited with baited breath for his approval.

 

“I see no logic in its purpose.”

 

“Ambassador Sarek!”  I was exasperated with his deliberate lack of tact.  “It’s wonderful and Torn worked so hard.”

 

“Is it a human custom?”

 

“Oh yes, everyone makes one when it snows.”

 

His eyes quickly assessed Torn and T’Rel and then narrowed on me. “Are there any other human customs that you wish to inflict upon my staff, and which I should be warned against?” Then he managed to position his head just at the right angle, effectively looking down his nose at our snowman.

 

“There’s this one…,” the answer came at the same time the snowball was released from my right hand.  It hit his nose before he had a chance to even see it coming.

 

Sarek spun around and adopted a defensive stance, as through under attack.

 

Torn grabbed at my arm and T’Rel backed away. Then there was a deathly silence.

 

With sudden horror I realised I’d made a massive social blunder and created a potentially embarrassing incident.  “I’m so sorry… I really am… It’s just a snowball.”  It sounded lame.

 

There was still silence.

 

“’Snowballing’ is a human game, Ambassador, mostly played by children.” I gently detached my arm from Torn’s grip. “It helps reinforce a competitive spirit in our young.”  Slowly and deliberately I picked up another handful of snow and made a sphere. Then carefully and with very little force, I threw another ball at Sarek, this time aiming at his legs. “See?  It’s harmless fun… honest.”

 

Sarek looked slowly at the spot were my last snowball had landed and carefully brushed away the debris of the impact. Torn stepped away from me and I felt a complete and utter sense of dread descend.

 

“Miss Grayson, I have endured two premeditated attacks from you without provocation. Strike me again and I warn you, it will be considered a formal declaration of hostility. I shall have no alternative but to retaliate.” He raised his eyebrow.

 

His voice echoed across the stillness of the snow, and the last syllable had not died when the third missile hit his still raised eyebrow.  I couldn’t stop myself!

 

His reprisal was swift and accurate.  I was struck twice on my forehead and once on the arm before I’d even managed to snatch at any more snow. Fortunately T’Rel came to my defence and succeeded in giving me some cover until I could regain my footing.

 

Then it was all out war!

 

Torn had typically chosen to defend his superior and thus gave Sarek an unfair advantage as T’Rel lacked any real grit. However, we were managing to hold our position, but taking far too many direct hits. I was beginning to worry if T’Rel’s resilience would hold.

 

“ENOUGH!”

 

I stopped mid-throw, expecting the order to be Sarek’s and preparing myself to ask him if he wished to negotiate terms for **his** surrender. However, surprisingly Shras the Andorian ambassador stood in the no mans land between us.

 

Sarek stepped quickly forward with some authority. “You have no right here Shras, this is not your business.”

 

The ambassador’s antennas straightened.  “I wish to offer my allegiance to the Human female.” He turned and slowly edged backwards towards us, carefully watching the two Vulcan males. “I am your servant, madam.”

 

Sarek looked smugly at the ball of snow in his hand.  “As always Shras, you have allied yourself with a futile cause and will therefore lose.”

 

“As always Sarek, you underestimate me.”

 

During the following half hour we discovered that Andorians (with their remarkably advanced hand to eye co-ordination,) had a natural talent for snowballing.

 

Poor Sarek and Torn didn’t stand a chance.

 


End file.
